


by your side wherever you fall

by annadavidson



Series: that which shaped the century (a dragon age dual au) [13]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Dragon Age AU, Dragon Age Dual AU, Dual AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 13:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10832445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annadavidson/pseuds/annadavidson
Summary: Galen was a complicated person to help, Cole had realized.Prompt: Healing them.





	by your side wherever you fall

Galen was a complicated person to help, Cole had realized. He was harder to help, to _heal_ than other people. He was like a puzzle with glass pieces that shattered too easily. Or perhaps it wasn’t that he shattered _too easily,_ but whereas others would shatter into pieces, when he shattered, there weren’t fragmented pieces left but rather a pile of dust. That wasn’t to say that he couldn’t be helped, that he couldn’t get better. But the whole process was hard, complicated by obvious self-resentment and doubt.

It was obvious when the Inquisitor was hurting. He wasn’t good at hiding it. Even if he had been able to hide it, knowing what had happened would have been enough for anyone to know he was in pain. The news of Clan Lavellan, of that _slaughter,_ had reached the farthest corners of Skyhold. Everyone knew what the Inquisitors had lost. What they didn’t know was how they were both reacting.

Aya was gone – some suspected she just needed space from the Inquisition, others whispered about her avenging her fallen family. Galen remained at Skyhold. He rarely left his room. Cole still remembered the state he’d found the young mage in after grabbing Dorian, insisting that Galen needed him. Dorian seemed to be one of the keys to helping Galen heal. He made Galen brighten up and smile against the pain. Dorian and the others among the Inner Circle helped give Galen a distraction from his pain.

But eventually he had to face that pain again. Eventually he had to crack and crumble all over again.

It happened in the middle of the night. Cole sensed it rather than saw it, making his way up the steps that led to the castle. He slipped inside quietly. Moonlight shined through the windows behind the two thrones. Galen sat in his usual spot. The throne at his right was empty, emphasizing his sister’s absence. Cole didn’t have to wonder to know that the young man in front of him didn’t just notice his sister’s absence, he _felt_ it in his core. To Galen, missing Aya was like missing a limb. He leaned on her so heavily and now she wasn’t there so when he leaned, all he did was fall back.

Galen had thrown on Dalish styled clothing. His pants were brown, the stitching done in the pattern of leaves on a branch. His shirt was a loose fit, long-sleeved. It was dark green with gold laces tying up the sleeves. It was a simple shirt, though the lacing looked complicated. He wore no shoes on his feet or gloves on his hands. The usual glove he wore to cover the Anchor was absent as was the small braid he usually had in his hair. His hair looked like it had been messy and lazily fixed with his hands rather than a comb.

It was safe to assume that the young Inquisitor had snuck out of his own room after falling asleep with Dorian, not wanting to wake his lover up. The way he sat in the throne, lazily slumped in the chair, made him look tired, _relaxed,_ but there was an absent, empty look in his gaze. The way his eyes glowed in the dark made it obvious that he wasn’t looking at Cole.

But he _knew_ Galen had heard him enter, even with how quiet he’d been. It was either that or somehow the Inquisitor had sensed him enter. There was a silence that lingered for a moment or two. With Galen, it was a roulette of words. Which words would help? Which ones would hurt? And which would he just ignore? It was a race against Galen’s mind. It was a call to arms to help him fight the thoughts that plagued him. He had tried to help before, but everyone spoke comfort and the words always seemed to bounce right off Galen.

“I have all this,” Galen spoke, his gaze never wavering from whatever distant spot he was staring at. It was obvious what he was referring to, though. “All this… And I couldn’t – _I couldn’t save them.”_ His voice splintered with pain, a deep rooted agony that had made a home in his heart and mind and refused to be evicted.

Cole walked up the steps to the thrones, coming to stand by the Inquisitor. “You did all that you could. You sent the soldiers. You protected them the best you could. They knew that. They wouldn’t want you blaming yourself.” He thought back to when he had met Clan Lavellan. The clan had traveled near Skyhold before traveling all the way to Wycome. He remembered meeting the Inquisitors’ parents, watching them, seeing and feeling the way they loved them. They didn’t have to be alive and at Skyhold for him to know what they would have wanted.

Galen pushed himself off of the throne, the movement made rough with frustration and anger. “But I – I _didn’t_ do everything! I should have left with the soldiers. I should have _been there.”_ He placed his hand on the arm of the throne and stared down at its intricate design. “My family… They were _ma vhenas_ – my _home.”_

“They’re not all gone,” Cole pointed out, “You have Aya and Elaith.”

Galen cringed and his ears lowered at the mention of their names. “Aya – she’s _gone,_ and Elaith… she’s mourning because I couldn’t protect her parents.”

A silence stretched between them. Galen came to stand with his back facing Cole, leaning to the side against his throne. His arms were crossed, tightly hugging his stomach as if he was afraid he’d get sick. The light of the moon shined through the large glass windows, illuminating him and dulling the glow of his emerald eyes. With the light, it became obvious – the pain he wore like a second skin. His eyes were red from crying, his cheeks tear stained. Clutching his stomach, it was likely he had cried, _sobbed_ so much earlier that he had, actually, made himself get sick. No one had seen him suffering but Dorian. Whenever someone else had visited, he had gone quiet, silent as if caught in a moment of numbness.

But any numbing wasn’t real. Cole could feel it. What was real to Galen was this pain. Any other feeling was an illusion that shouldn’t exist, and that included happiness. How could he heal someone who didn’t think he deserved happiness? How could he heal someone who thought he deserved to suffer?

“Piercing,” he found himself saying, “Like a dagger into flesh. A dagger that should have struck me down, not them. If I could return the blood to their bodies, and replace the blood on the ground with mine, I would. Light and happiness, anytime they were together. Like stars sparkling in a dark sky – but stars die. Stars fade. Stars fall. Why can’t I catch them and put them back in the sky? They belong in the sky. I belong in the ground.”

Galen was half-turned, no longer leaning against the throne. His eyes were wide, tears forming, staring at Cole. His mouth was partly open as if he wanted to speak, but the words were caught in his throat. It was how he felt, what he thought, put into words he’d been unable to speak. Words he’d been afraid to hear.

Cole met his eyes, a sadness etched into his expression, mirroring Galen’s own grief. “You wish you were dead instead.”

Galen stared at him for several minutes, unable to find his voice or look away.

“Aya will come back,” Cole insisted, “She’ll always come back.”

Galen bit down on his lower lip. “Do you… Do you feel when someone – When they die? Even if – if they’re not here, near you?”

He knew what Galen was asking for. “They loved you, both of you. You two were the sun and the moon, day and night, to them, and they loved both. They were your stars, but you were the entire sky. Standing tall before everyone – that’s our son, our daughter. Our _da’len._ We couldn’t be prouder. You have our strength, our courage, our _love._ No matter where we go, we are behind you both. You will _always_ have us with you.”

Galen held himself around his waist with one arm, his free hand covering his mouth. He was crying, and though he was crying, Cole realized this had helped. For Galen, assuring him it wasn’t his fault did nothing when he was constantly telling himself it was. What helped was reminding him that the people he cared about, the people he loved, loved and cared about him too. That was all he needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Like/reblog on Tumblr [here](http://magicrobins.tumblr.com/post/160352545525/cole-and-galen-elfroot).


End file.
